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losing the will to die

by Andrew S Adams

i wake up, i feel the same as i did the night before, and i never remember the taste in my mouth.
somewhere between tequila and fucking crazy,
it hits me that i'm at a loss.
and somewhere between masturbation and a
cliched constant suicide, a level plain has been reached:
i am never at home anywhere, even when i feel like it.
i guess that rules out death as an option;
there isnt much place to be there anyways.
just speeding up my ascent to an eternity on the streets of hell-
where i'll sleep in a cardboard box.
quarters will be sparce and worthless,
and anything of value is stolen by my silent demons.

honestly, who gets so depressed they lose the will to die?

08/14/2003

Posted on 08/14/2003
Copyright © 2025 Andrew S Adams

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Cole Miller on 08/14/03 at 02:58 PM

*raises hand* i do. well written i can relate.

Posted by Cymbre Dolphay on 08/15/03 at 03:42 AM

It's not that bad of an aftertaste;) I liked the lines concerning hell. But that's to be expected of me:)

Posted by Barbara Griffith on 08/19/03 at 03:42 AM

This is a good peice. The lines "i am never at home anywhere, even when i feel like it. i guess that rules out death as an option; there isnt much place to be there anyways." hit me very strong.

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